Stronger
by eh089614
Summary: "I never once thought I'd see him again. I had taken that single second to wonder if he was okay and then pushed it far back into the small corner of my heart and mind that I had reserved for Daryl Dixon a long time ago." Emma left Georgia behind her when she moved to New York. Then the world ended. (Daryl/OC of course)
1. Chapter 1

"Chris, we need to get the fuck out of here. Now."

I looked into the panicked eyes of my best friend. I wasn't planning on being one of those dumb fools that left it up to the government and the scientists to fix whatever the hell was happening to the human race. We were currently in the most populated city in the country, and when people started to eat each other, it was time to check out. Before everyone else had the same idea.

"What do you mean get the fuck out of here? Where do you propose we go? And how do you suggest we get there?" She spit out her questions rapid fire, eyes moving from mine back to the emergency broadcast on the TV.

Ah, the upside of living in Manhattan. No car, no car payments, get to all your destinations in minutes by train. If someone had given me the memo years ago that the dead would come back to life and start feasting on the living, I would have stayed in the backwoods of Georgia.

"Just start packing shit up. Enough to last a while. I have a plan."

* * *

"Emma! Stop! Jesus!"

I pulled the car over and rested my head on the steering wheel. I couldn't catch my breath. It was like someone was sitting on my chest. I had not realized I'd been going 90.

We hadn't gotten very far from the city when we heard the blasts. We had watched from the rearview mirror as the New York skyline went up in flames, bombs hitting the bridges, which crumbled into the water below. I had almost driven right off the road, not even bothering to wipe the tears away from my eyes.

I just kept driving. It must have been hours ago by this point. It was like time didn't exist. I sucked in a handful of deep breaths, trying to find my voice.

"Em…are you okay? Do you even know where you're going?" The worry in Christa's eyes was blaringly obvious. I snuck a peek at my face in the mirror. I was pale as a ghost, red rings lining my green eyes, barely any color in my lips.

I swallowed. Even amongst the chaos that was ringing in my ears, I knew I had an answer for that. "South. Less people. More guns."

* * *

A week. A week we'd been dodging the main roads, sneaking into small towns and taking any supplies we could find. A trip that normally took less than a day had taken us seven with the amount of detours we were forced to take.

I leaned my head against the passenger seat, content with letting Christa drive across the state line between South Carolina and Georgia. I had closed my eyes for only a few seconds before I was jerked forward as Christa slammed on the brakes.

I glared at her, annoyed to have a rare chance at sleep ripped away from me. She narrowed her eyes at me. Uh oh.

"Emma. You haven't said more than three sentences since we drove out of New York. I've known you for eight years and I had no idea you knew how to hotwire a car, shoot a gun, siphon gas from a car, or start a damn fire. You've saved my ass from those…those…things more times than I can count on one hand at this point. Explain yourself."

I sighed. Of course she had no idea. When I left Georgia for the big city, I had no intention of looking back. My stupid, naive nineteen-year-old self was ecstatic to have a reason to leave behind my bumblefuck, hillbilly past and start anew.

"I grew up here. You learn a thing or two." I stated, trying to keep this conversation to a minimum. I wanted nothing to do with recounting my history before New York.

She nodded, seeming to realize I wasn't going to share any more information. After a few moments of tense silence, she stepped on the gas and we kept moving.

* * *

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I whispered to myself, struggling to reload my gun. I whipped my head around, trying to catch a glimpse of Christa's red hair among the cars on the highway. Panic began to set in when I couldn't find her.

My brilliant idea to get on a highway had started out just fine. We were running on fumes right outside of Atlanta, and as much as I hated to admit it, I had a feeling the main roads would be backed up with countless abandoned vehicles. We had only just started to fill up our gas cans when a small group of the living dead began to work their way towards us.

"Em! Here!" Christa was suddenly to my right, holding a baseball bat. Under any other circumstances, my spoiled city-girl best friend would have looked hilarious. This, however, was life or death.

"What do we do?!" She whispered frantically, almost tripping over herself as she struggled to keep up with me.

"Keep up. We have to leave the car. I'm not going to try and cut through those fuckers. There's too many of them." I grabbed her wrist and slipped off the highway into the woods, not looking back once. I had made not looking back a lifetime habit.

* * *

I kept my hand close to the knife in my belt, the one I had stolen from a sporting goods store back in North Carolina. I trudged through the forest, eyes and ears open. My tracking skills were fucking shot to hell. It was like my feet sought out every damn twig in this godforsaken forest.

Christa was on a completely other level though. It was as if she was trying to bring to life the phrase "bull in a china shop".

"Em, where the hell are we going? I'm fucking tired. I'm dirty. There's bugs everywhere. Tell me you have some kind of a plan."

Bugs. Naturally. She's annoyed with the bugs. She stood with her weight on her left leg, hands on her hips. Typical Christa.

"If we are where I think we are, which I think we are, there's a rock quarry about two and a half miles northwest of the highway we ran off of." I whispered to her. I was patient with her complaints; I knew she was out of her element here. I was convinced that every time her eyes moved left or right she was expecting a Starbucks to appear out of thin air.

"Ok so, are we there yet?"

"Christa, I love you, and I know your city-girl ass is struggling with nature at the moment, but shut the hell up." I smirked at her, trying to keep the mood light. I kept moving, making sure she was behind me, and let out a sigh of relief as the trees began to thin out.

My moment of relief was short-lived, however, and I smelled them before I saw or heard them. Decaying flesh was moving its way up on my list of familiar scents.

Five of the undead had staggered out from the trees behind us, and I turned myself around on my left heel right as a particularly ugly one reached out for Christa's shoulder. She let out a bloodcurdling scream – likely attracting any others within a five-mile radius – before my knife hit it right between the eyes.

I ran and tore my knife from the dead man's skull, pushing Christa out of the way and burying my weapon into the face of a short, fat woman. Christa was swinging her baseball bat wildly, smacking the other three to the ground but not delivering the requisite fatal blow to the head.

I tripped over one she had knocked to the floor, felt it twist its hands into my hair. I struggled to free myself to no avail, squirming across the dirt as Christa attempted to bash its skull in with the bat. I couldn't hold my cry of pain as she missed its head and slammed the bat into my knee.

"Oh my god, Emma, I'm so sorry. Fuck!" She was in hysterics, tears blocking her vision as she slammed the bat back down to the floor, hitting me on the back of the head this time.

I could hear the teeth snapping at my shoulder as my vision began to blur. End of the world and I get stuck with the least coordinated human being on the planet. My life was going to end because my best friend couldn't aim a fucking baseball -

What I believed to be my final thoughts were suddenly cut off as a gunshot rang through the forest. The last thing I felt before the world went black was the slackening grip of the dead fingers in my hair.

* * *

**Authors Note:**

**Thoughts?! It has been a long - I mean looong - time since I wrote fanfiction. But I love TWD and Daryl, and this idea came into my head. It's going to be a Daryl story done right, which means I'll be taking it slow. But no worries. He shall be here soon enough!**

**Reviews are welcome :)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Is she going to be okay?! Oh my god. I killed her."

If I could open my eyes, I would have rolled them. I was vaguely aware of a pair of arms carrying me quickly through the forest. I searched my exhausted brain for the ability to open my mouth before slipping out of consciousness again.

* * *

The world was still. Wasn't I just being carried wedding style through the woods? I must be dead. I never expected to end up in heaven but I thought hell would be a little bit more impressive than a dull pounding between my ears. Where was the fire and brimstone?

"Emma?"

Christa's voice. Must be hell.

I opened my eyes slowly, taking in my surroundings. I was flat on my back in some type of trailer. Christa was gripping my hand tightly, smiling. I took note of my body, stretching my fingers and toes, groaning as I felt the ache in my left leg, giving the one in my head a run for its money. Sure felt great to be alive.

"You bitch." I croaked out, my voice sounding worse than that of a chain smoker.

"Here honey, take some water." An elderly man in a Hawaiian shirt and – was that a bucket hat? Jesus Christ I've traveled back to 2001 – stood above me offering a glass.

I made a failed attempt to sit up, immediately lying back down again. Christa and the old man helped me situate myself into a sitting position. I gulped down a few sips of water before speaking again.

"What the hell happened?"

Before they could answer my question, two more men made their way into the tiny RV. I scanned them quickly, noticing the sheriff's uniform on the first guy and the police cap on the second. I kept watching as a look passed between them. The kinder looking one, in the full uniform, knelt down beside me, his blue eyes staring into mine.

"I'm Rick Grimes. That's Shane." He pointed to the other man, who was standing off in a corner, looking annoyed. The fuck was his problem?

"Emma. Pleased to meet your acquaintance." I directed my sarcastic greeting to Shane, who looked up suddenly at my attitude.

"Em – these guys saved our asses. You'd be half-eaten by now if they didn't help me take out the rest of those walkers. Show some manners." Christa piped up, crossing her arms. Walkers? She must've picked up some slang from our new friends.

"I'd be perfectly fine if you knew how to control your limbs better than a flailing inflatable tube man." I snapped at her. She couldn't hide the smirk that crossed her face, and I returned the smile before realizing that moving the muscles in my face was pure agony.

"Some of the ladies with our camp checked you out. You might have a concussion and you're going to need to be light on your leg for a few days. We have some Advil and Tylenol but nothing stronger, unfortunately." Rick explained, trying to gain some control over the conversation. I picked up that he was trying to hide the amusement from his voice. Yeah, even half-knocked out and battered, I'm funny.

I sighed, letting my guard down a bit. He seemed fine. I could spare him my sarcastic attitude for a moment. The guy did just save my life.

"Thank you. Sorry for my attitude. I am grateful for what you did." I turned my head to look out the window of the RV, seeing multiple tents and chairs set up. "How many people in your camp?"

"There's a handful of us." Shane answered. Vague. Trusting and being trusted, in this new world, were luxuries we could no longer afford it seemed.

"We have an extra tent, some blankets and pillows. We can set you girls up a spot with us if you're willing to stay." Rick offered. The look in Shane's eyes told me this was neither something they had not discussed, nor something he agreed with.

"Oh, that'd be amazing. We left our car with all our supplies back on the highway when we got swarmed. All we have is what you see." Christa explained. As if on cue, her stomach rumbled.

"Come on, my wife Lori and Carol are putting some food together." Rick led Christa out of the RV, leaving Shane and I inside.

"You should rest. Do you want anything to eat?" He asked, looking uncomfortable.

I was starving, I could have pulled some "walker" shit and eaten Shane. But I shook my head. "I'm okay. Thanks."

I let my eyes slip close and fell back into unconsciousness.

* * *

"So give me the story."

After an hour or so of much needed sleep, I had relocated from the RV to the tent Christa and I were now sharing. She had taken to setting us up. Two sleeping bags, a bag of clothes, a small box turned into a table with a brush and travel size toiletries resting on top of it. I couldn't help the feeling of pure gratitude wash over me as I realized that the women I had met minutes ago – Andrea, Lori, Jacqui, Amy, Carol – must have donated some of their things to help us get settled.

A small lantern sat in the far corner of the tent, across from my pistol, knife and her baseball bat. I leaned up, wincing slightly at my sudden movement, to grab my weapons. They had been too far away from me for way too long.

We were quite a team – Emma the survivor, keeping us alive and Christa the housewife, eager to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

"Oh Emma, it was terrifying. That walker was about to bite down on your shoulder when Rick shot it. It was like they came out of nowhere. The two of them took out the rest of them and lead us back here. I thought you were freaking dead." Christa let it all out in a rush.

I knew she'd been dying to give me the details, likely from the moment it all went down. Having to wait this long must have been torture for the former gossip queen. I nodded for her to continue, knowing from the look on her face that she hadn't gotten to the good stuff yet.

"Rick, he just got back way early this morning actually. He and some of the other group were trapped in a department store in Atlanta on a supply run; they had to cover themselves in walker guts to escape! And then... wait for this shit…turns out Rick was hunting for his family, comes here and there's his damn wife and son standing 10 feet away."

I gasped, giving her the reaction she needed to go forward.

"So fucking Rick was like, in a coma and shit, and they thought he was dead, but he wakes up from the damn hospital and just walks out and the fucking WORLD is over and he can't find his family and then he's back here. Like he's back from the dead. Shit man, I used to think tabloids were exciting." Christa finished up. Her ability to add curses to her statements as she became more and more excited never failed to astound me.

"What's Shane's deal?" I asked, after screwing my face up into one of pure shock.

"Well, Shane saved Lori and Carl, that's Rick's kid, and was headed to Atlanta. Rick and Shane are like, best friends or whatever. Everyone else who's here was backed up on the highway heading to Atlanta too when the city was bombed– just like New York – and Shane rounded every one up and lead them to the quarry. I guess they've been here ever since. What about you though Em, are you alright?"

"Peachy." I smiled at her. I knew she felt an insane amount of guilt over hurting me and of course I knew it was an accident. I loved her as if she were my sister, ditziness included. "No more fighting walkers for you. Where'd you get the upper body strength to knock me out?"

"Adrenaline?" She shrugged. We both burst out into laughter. The world had gone to shit – if I didn't laugh at something, I was going to cry.

* * *

"So what are you going to tell Daryl?" Bucket-hat man directed his question towards Rick.

I was pretty close to the fire we were all gathered around, but it felt like someone had just covered my body in ice water. I didn't hear the rest of the discussion as I attempted to calm my racing mind.

It's a common enough name, I told myself. There was no way on earth he was here, with this group, off of this highway. The fact that I knew more than anyone else that he was not a people person soothed my frantic thoughts. He'd never group up with this many strangers. Not in a thousand years.

I forced myself back to the present, pushing down years of memories. It was so hard I could feel the muscles in my body tensing as I physically struggled with it. Christa was staring at me with a questioning look on her face.

I shook my head at her and forced a smile. I stood up and the conversation ceased as the group looked up at me.

"Well, it was so nice to meet everyone. Thank you so much for allowing us to stay here. Strength in numbers and all that. Night."

I grabbed Christa's hand and tugged her towards our tent, limping on my bad knee. No way I was sleeping alone in that thing.

* * *

I poked my head out of the tent the next morning and squinted at the bright sunlight. I needed to fucking walk around. With the damn sun beating down on us, the tent was beginning to feel like a sauna. My sweat glands were having a field day. I had forgotten just how brutal the Georgia heat could be.

I glanced around the campsite, searching for a bright red head of hair with no luck. I looked at all the new faces, trying to remember the names. Jim and bucket-hat man, that was Dale. T-Dog and Glen were collecting firewood. Morales and his wife were walking with their kids over to Lori, Carl, Carol and Sophia, who sat at a table looking over what appeared to be school workbooks. Carol's husband, Ed I think, loomed over them with a cigarette sticking out of his mouth. His eyes snapped to me as I walked into the main area of the camp.

I paused at the all too familiar sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as he scanned me from head to toe. I knew what type of man Ed was, and I wasn't getting closer than that.

"Hey Dale?" I called up to him, sitting on his perch atop the RV. I was still trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling Ed had left me with. "Have you seen Christa?"

"She headed down to the lake with Amy and Andrea. Washing off I'd assume." Dale smiled at me and pointed me in the right direction. Friendly guy. Wonder if it'd take him very far in this new world of ours.

"Hi ladies." I greeted them as I limped my ass over to the water. They were chest deep in the water, and I could tell everyone had stripped down to their underwear in an attempt to get as clean as possible. Amy and Andrea waved.

Well, why the hell not.

I stripped off the once-white tank top I had been wearing since leaving New York. It was now caked with dirt and god only knows what else. My jeans were in no better shape and I peeled them off my legs as well. I waded into the water, taking my nasty clothes with me. They needed a good cleaning as much as I did.

"This. Feels. Amazing." I sighed, flipping onto my back and floating lazily in the water. The girls all nodded.

"How old are you?" Amy asked before doing a backflip in the water. I waited for her to come up before answering.

"I'm 28. Christa's 26."

"So what did you guys do before all this?" Andrea asked. I guess they knew everyone else's stories already. Should've expected the 21 questions.

"We were in our last year of grad school at NYU. Emma had the sense to leave before they quarantined the city. _Apparently_, she grew up in Georgia." Christa explained, putting extra special emphasis on her last few words. I glared at her.

"Yeah. Got out the first chance I could too. Never thought I'd ever need a reason to come back, but here we are." Once again, kept it short. Eventually though, I knew I'd have to explain myself. Not to everyone, but certainly to Christa. I suppose I owed her that much, having kept it from her for the last eight years.

"Yea I can pick up what's left of your Southern accent when you speak." Amy chuckled. Christ, not even 24 hours here and my drawl was returning. I blushed slightly and was working on coming up with a retort, when we heard the obnoxious yelling coming from camp.

We quickly dried ourselves off and got dressed – the others faster than me, considering my clothes were soaking wet. Sliding into dripping wet jeans, what a sight. Note to self – next time, bring a change of clothes. My idiocy knew no bounds.

We trekked our way back to camp, Christa with a bounce in her step. Like a moth to a flame, she could sniff out drama like Scooby fucking Doo. The yelling became clearer as we stepped out from the trees.

"Yer tellin' me ya handcuffed my brother to a roof – AND YOU LEFT HIM THERE?!"

We arrived just in time to see a very angry man throw something – fucking squirrels? – at Rick and rush towards him. Shane grabbed him in time and put him in a chokehold. I didn't recognize him from camp. I could only see his back.

"Chokehold's illegal." The man muttered, struggling against his hold.

"File a complaint." I couldn't help but smirk at Shane's response. Officer 1, Redneck 0.

Shane released the man from his grasp, and he quickly got up and turned in our direction, wiping his eyes. At that moment, everything began to spin as the pieces clicked into place. Pieces of a puzzle I thought had been permanently dissembled long ago.

The squirrels. I saw the crossbow that must have been thrown to the ground. The rough, redneck voice that, in retrospect, I should have been able to pick out in the middle of a crowded stadium. As he looked up - his blue eyes met mine.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Thoughts?! I'm going to follow the general storyline of the show, but since we've all seen the episodes, I'm going to skip over a lot of the lines and parts that we already know. Except the Daryl lines, cuz those are the best. **

**Review, review, review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: Italics equal flashback. On with the story!**

* * *

"Emma?!"

I opened my eyes. Back in the fucking RV again.

"Emma, you fainted. What the hell?" Christa was frantic again. "Would it be her concussion? Is she okay?"

She was pressing Lori and Jacqui for answers. Jacqui held a cold cloth to my face. "Are you alright honey?"

No. No. I was not all right. I was at a loss for words. I was in shock. I was feeling my heart break into a thousand little pieces like it had only done once before, eight years ago.

* * *

"_Leave me alone!" I cried, hiding my head in my knees._

"_You're such a baby, stupid girl." Johnny, my annoying neighbor was pulling at my dress again. I whipped my head around to look at my house across the street, making sure Daddy wasn't watching. He would be so mad to see me talking to boys. Even if they were being mean._

"_Go away! Go away!" I whimpered, embarrassed to be crying in front of a boy. I tried to stand up and he pushed me to the ground. I threw my hands out before I hit the sidewalk, crying out and feeling the scrapes on my palms._

"_Aren't you 8? You're crying like a little baby." He teased, poking my head. His younger brother, Jimmy ran up to us with a stick. _

"_Hit her with this John." I heard him say. I tried to crawl away, but he grabbed my ankle and pulled me back, snapping the stick at the back of my legs. _

"_Stop!" I screamed, slapping at his hands. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me up again. I took my chance and bit down on his fingers. Hard. _

_He yelled out, slapping me right in the face. "You…you…BITCH!"_

_Johnny was 11, so I guess he thought he was old enough to say words like that. Through my tears I could see Jimmy staring at Johnny like he was a hero, like he was so cool for hurting me. _

_I stayed on the ground, feeling the hurt in my face. I felt like I would have a bruise. Daddy would know it wasn't from him. I was in so much trouble. I curled my legs into my stomach, cradling my face and trying not to cry. I watched a boy come out from the woods behind Jimmy and Johnny's house._

"_Ya think s'fun to beat up on a lil' girl Johnny?" He yelled out. He started walking faster, reaching Johnny and pushing him backwards._

"_None of your business." Johnny pushed Jimmy behind him and planted a kick to my side. The new boy growled as he tackled Johnny to the ground, throwing punches right to Johnny's face, muffling my cry of pain. When he pulled his fist back, Johnny's nose was bleeding a lot. Was he…was he crying? _

_My eyes were really wide as I watched Johnny and Jimmy run away back to their house._

"_Hey you." _

"_What?" I mumbled. I stood up shakily, brushing the dirt off my dress. I wiped my tears away even though they were still coming. Crying is annoying. That's what Daddy would say._

"_What's yer name huh?" I looked at him. He had pretty blue eyes and brown hair that covered his forehead. He was taller than me and wore jeans with holes in them. His checkered shirt had holes in it too. His clothes were really dirty. Dirtier than my dress._

"_Emma." I said shyly. He was a stranger. Shouldn't talk to strangers._

"_My name's Daryl."_

* * *

I didn't think I would ever see him again. Of course he crossed my mind for a fleeting moment as I drove towards Georgia. But the panic and chaos surrounding me had taken over my thoughts and seriously – I never once thought I'd see him again. I had taken that single second to wonder if he was okay and then pushed it far back into the small corner of my heart and mind that I had reserved for Daryl Dixon a long time ago.

"Emma?" Jacqui was still waiting for her answer.

"I'm fine. It must have been the heat. Or maybe my head. I'm fine though. Let me out." I went to stand up and wobbled slightly. Christa grabbed my arm, her face riddled with concern. I exited the RV without another word, Christa on my heels.

I stalked across the camp, keeping my head down, ignoring the pain in my knee in favor of moving quickly. I felt the pair of blue eyes burning a hole in my back as I entered our tent.

"What is going on with you?" Chris stood there, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. "You've watched the dead come back to life with a straight face. You're telling me you fainted because of the heat?"

"I haven't spent time in Georgia in years. Must I remind you that you almost bashed my head in? It probably all caught up to me. I don't fucking know." I hissed, trying to avoid eye contact with her.

"You are lying. You kept it from me that you grew up here and now you're lying again. Fess up. Now."

"I know him." I sighed.

"The angry redneck dude?!" She gasped.

"Yeah. Daryl."

* * *

"_No, Emmy, keep yer thumb out." _

_I stared at him as he grabbed my tiny fist and pulled my thumb out from my fingers. He placed it back over my knuckles. _

"_Now try it." He stood back, holding his palms up to me._

"_You want me to hit you?" I asked, shocked. It had been a month since Daryl beat Johnny up and he wasn't bothering me no more. Except that Daryl said I should still know how to throw a punch, just in case._

"_S'just my hand. Go ahead. As hard as ya can." _

_I took a step back. I didn't like hitting. I especially didn't like when I was getting hit. Why would he want me to hit him?_

"_C'mon Em. Not gonna hurt ya or hit ya back or anythin'." _

_I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my fist forward. With my eyes closed I missed his palm and tripped over my feet. Before I could hit the ground, Daryl grabbed me and pulled me up._

"_Ain't gon' do ya no good if yer eyes are closed." He sighed. He slid back against the tree in our clearing we had been hanging out in since I met him. It wasn't too far away from my house, so as long as Daddy wasn't home, I could come out to play. Except I had to listen real close to hear if his truck pulled up so I could run home really fast._

"_How old are you Daryl?" I asked quietly, taking a seat across from him._

"_10."_

_He was older than me. By a whole two years!_

"_Why would you wanna be my friend?" This was a question that was bothering me since he stood up for me. _

"_Cuz…people…who are bigger…shouldn't hurt people who are smaller." He stood up again, brushing some dirt off his jeans. They were always so dirty. _

"_Now c'mon. Let's try it again." He held his palms back out._


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: Italics are a flashback.**

**Hi new followers! Let me know what you think of the story so far :)**

* * *

**Daryl's POV**

I watched her blonde head disappear into the tent, her redheaded friend close behind her. Not surprised it took the end of the world to bring Emma back to Georgia.

Fuck that. I couldn't deal with ghosts right now. My brother was chained to a damn roof. I stomped on the horn of the van. Bet if it was the damn cops family chained to a fucking pipe we'd be there and back already, home in time for dinner.

"Let's GO!" I yelled, eyeing Dale and Mr. Rick Grimes negotiating. "Ain't got all day!"

I couldn't help it. I looked back at her tent again before we pulled away and stared at it disappearing in the distance. I never thought I'd see her again.

* * *

I smelled the decaying flesh before I heard the screams coming from the campsite. Tired as we were, we ran faster.

It was a shitshow. Walkers were everywhere, eating away at bodies that had been alive and moving hours ago. I cocked the shotgun Rick had handed off to me and aimed it at one that was chasing after Carl. He ran into Lori's arms as her and Shane moved closer to the RV.

"Lori! Carl!" Rick was screaming in front of me. Pure chaos.

I heard another scream, a familiar one. I felt thirteen again as I saw a walker reaching for Emma's ankles as she tried to crawl away. I didn't think. I acted. And I barely noticed the pounding in my chest.

When I reached her, I stomped my boot into the fucker's head, ignoring the brains that spilled out from his skull. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her up, shoving her towards the RV.

"Move!" I yelled out, refusing to look at her and swinging my body around to stare into the woods to see if anymore were coming. All was silent, except for the heavy breathing and crying of those who had survived.

* * *

I took a long drag of one of Merle's cigarettes as I stared out onto the empty campsite. The living had gone to sleep, or were attempting to. The dead were scattered over the ground, bloodstains carpeting the dirt.

I heard Andrea sniffling as she cowered over her dead sister. That girl was a time bomb. I shook my head at her stupidity. Should go over there and put an ax in her brain myself.

I gazed out from my perch in the tree. No way I was going to sleep tonight on the ground, not after so many walkers had come through camp. No way I was going to sleep period. I heard the zip of a tent door opening and froze. Lord, do not let it be her. I listened to the tentative footsteps heading towards me.

"Daryl?"

I groaned inwardly, looking up to the sky. Funny how the stars don't change even after the world's ended.

"Don't be a fuck. I know you can hear me."

I risked a single look down. Emma was standing below me, hands on her hips. Her hair was still the same light blonde it used to be. 'Cept now it reached past her shoulders, coming down in waves. She was still short as hell, no bigger than 5'1. The scar below her left eye was just noticeable in the moonlight, although I'm positive nobody would ever notice it but me. I tore my eyes away from her.

"Ya need to go to bed. And ya need to go on like ya don' know me. Cuz ya don'. Not anymore." I grunted.

"You're serious?" I could hear the pain in her voice. It was unmistakable. I fought to ignore it; I fought not to look at her face. I kept my eyes to the sky.

"Go to bed Emma."

* * *

"_Stop movin'." I told her impatiently as she pulled away from me again. I was trying to get a good look at the cut on her face and she would not stay still._

"_It hurts!" She whined, pulling away from the peroxide soaked cotton ball in my hand._

"_Ya want an infection? Ya'lready got one livin' with ya. Ya need another one?" I grabbed her chin gently and pulled her face back to mine. She winced as I ran the cotton ball across the gash in her cheek._

"_First day of sixth grade tomorrow and this is what my face looks like." She sighed. I looked her over. Her left eye was black and blue, lip cut up and swollen. The worst though was the cut across her cheek, right where the bruise under her eye ended. I never asked her for details, but from the looks of it, I'd guess a belt buckle. My fists clenched at the thought._

"_Ain't nothin' you haven' dealt with before." I wiped the cut clean and placed a butterfly bandage over it._

"_Yeah…you either." Her green eyes stared daggers into mine._

_I turned away, ignoring her, and walked to the edge of the roof of the Wal-Mart we had snuck up onto. I knew after three summers of swimming in the lake with me, she'd seen the scars across my back and chest. Yeah, my dad beat up on me. But I was a man. Or so he said. I should be able to take it._

_Emma. Emma was just a girl. A tiny, skinny little girl. Plus, I had Merle—when he wasn't high as a kite or in jail. She was all alone in that house._

"_Yeah well, whatever." I shrugged. She grabbed my hand – hers were so little – and pulled me towards the ladder leading to the parking lot._

"_He's gonna be home soon. He's not gonna be happy if he finds out I left."_

* * *

**(Emma's POV)**

It shouldn't surprise me, being blown off like that. I stared up at the ceiling of the tent, ignoring the hot tears cascading down my cheeks.

He wouldn't even look at me. Even when he grabbed me away from that walker. His hand had snapped off my wrist as soon as I was up, as if he had put his hand on a burning stove.

"Em? Are you crying?" Christa whispered from her sleeping bag. Shit. I didn't realize she was still up.

"Just a rough day." She huffed. She didn't know the half of it.

"Well every time I close my eyes, I see those dead faces. I can't sleep at all. Wanna talk about it?" She asked, her voice comforting.

"Not particularly."

"C'mon. You've been a mess since we left New York. Like you'd rather be eaten alive than enter Georgia. And then since Daryl showed up, you've retreated even further inside yourself, which I previously did not think was possible. You're like a different person than the Emma I know."

Fucking psych majors.

"I left here for a reason. If the rest of my life hadn't been a damn Lifetime movie, I would've stayed here with him forever Chris." There. Let her mull on that. I turned over and shut my eyes, begging sleep to come quick. She had enough sense not to respond.

* * *

"What's going on?" I sat next to Glen, watching Rick, Shane, Daryl and Lori in a heated discussion by the fire pit. I saw Amy's body covered by a sheet and felt a pang in my chest at her death.

"Jim's bit." Glen bit his lower lip. His hand was clasped around a hunting knife. He looked more than shaken. Poor guy. "They're arguing about whether or not we should just end it for him."

My eyes widened. Nobody should decide a man's fate for him. Just as I was thinking that I'd throw money down on who was arguing for it, Daryl suddenly flipped out of the circle, running towards Jim with a pickaxe.

Dramatic.

Rick and Shane stopped him, Rick holding his gun to the back of Daryl's head. I couldn't help but wince slightly. Fortunately, Glen was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice.

"Rick wants to head to the CDC, see if they can help at all."

I raised my eyebrows at Glen. "What do you think about it?"

"I think I'm going wherever the rest of you guys go."

I nodded. I was about to announce my suspicion that the CDC wouldn't be much help when Christa walked up. She eyed me nervously. Damn, was I acting that weird? I had to pull my shit together.

"Morning love." I greeted her, ruffling her hair. She looked somewhat relieved, but I could sense the skepticism behind her eyes.

"Morning. What's going on?" She grabbed a handful of berries that Lori and Carol had been nice enough to collect earlier that morning.

"I think we're headed to the CDC." I answered, stealing some from her. In an attempt to ease her mind further, I left the berry guts on my teeth and gave her a creepy smile.

She couldn't hold back her laugh, drawing one from me as well. Even the corners of Glen's mouth turned up. At the sound of my laugh, I saw Daryl's head turn in the corner of my eye. Ours met for the briefest of moments, before he turned away again.

Good moment over. It could have been a millisecond, but I saw it, clear as day. He was determined to act like we had never known each other.

* * *

"_I'm not having a repeat of my first day of the 6__th__ grade Daryl." I snapped at him across the aisle. That was miserable – I hadn't made a single friend. Even the kids who hated me from elementary school were too scared of my face to pick on me that day. And it had stayed that way for three years. "This is high school. It's a whole new group of people."_

"_So makeup? Yer gon' put on makeup? That's yer big solution?" My best friend asked incredulously, picking up an eyelash curler and staring at it like it was some kind of weapon. Kid wielded a crossbow on the daily and looked terrified of an eyelash curler. I sighed._

_I snatched it out of his hand and put it back on the counter. "Yes."_

"_An what's yer dad gon' havta say about it?" He pushed, blue eyes scanning the yellow and green bruises on my neck and jaw. They were fading, but I had to get them covered up somehow._

_I busied myself searching through the concealers, attempting to ignore his question. I tried to change the subject. "I wish you were still in school."_

"_Ain't got time for none of that shit. I'll meet ya after, every day." _

_At 16, Daryl had grown quite a bit and now towered over me. He had cut his dark brown hair into a crew cut earlier that summer. I nearly drowned him in the lake for it. It was finally growing back, brushing up against his eyebrows once again, the way I remembered it the first day I saw him._

"_Why'd you have to drop out anyway?" I dotted some of the concealer on my neck, trying to see what would work best. He pulled the bottle out of my hand._

"_Emmy. Yer pop is gon' have a field day if he finds out yer wearin' makeup. Don' egg him on." We'd both developed a habit of switching topics whenever we were uncomfortable with the current one._

_I glared at him. Daryl knew talking about my father was damn near forbidden when I was spending time with him. I had told him last year that the only time I ever felt like I was living a normal, happy life was when I was with him, and I wanted to keep it that way. I had begged him not to bring it up anymore. After a dramatic display of punching a few trees, he had agreed. I let him clean up his own bloody knuckles, just for being an ass._

_I pocketed a foundation and some powdery shit, and turned to leave the store before the sales lady who had been eyeing us noticed my disappearance. _

* * *

"Anyone infected?" The man in the white coat came out from the shadows, hands wrapped tightly around an automatic rifle.

"One of our group was. He didn't make it." Rick's tired voice rang out in the empty lobby.

* * *

I sat in the large room, waiting for Dr. Jenner to take my blood. I ignored the hunger pangs jabbing into my stomach, lost in my own thoughts.

The ride here had been unpleasant. Leaving Jim to die by a tree, only to turn back into one of those things? That poor man. When Lori relayed the story of his wife and children to me, I was overcome with sadness, and another, stronger emotion.

Jealousy. What I would have given to have been born into a family with a father who grieved the loss of his child. Felt his insides twist at the mere thought of his child in pain. Saw pure innocence and joy every time he looked upon their face. The way Rick looked at Carl.

I thought I had blocked it all out. I hadn't spent a single second of my time thinking about my father, my past…Georgia…since I arrived for orientation at NYU my first day of undergrad. I had figured that if they ever came up again, the memories would be fuzzy, void of details.

No. They were crystal clear.

"Emma. It's your turn." Christa called up to me from the front of the room, tearing me from my troubled thoughts. I got up, still shaky on my bad knee. T-Dog grabbed my arm gently, helping me steady myself.

"Hi Dr. Jenner." I said quietly as I took a seat in the chair in front of him. I placed my right arm on the table, wrist facing up. He ran one finger along the multiple raised scars that led from my elbow down to my wrist. I jerked my arm away. Hadn't exactly gotten close enough to anyone for them to notice. It'd been so long I hardly acknowledged them anymore. You forget what a shock scars like that can be to new people.

Christa of course knew about them. The first (and last) time she asked she was either dumb enough to believe my answer about being attacked by a dog as a child, or smart enough not to accuse me of lying.

"What are these from?" He asked curiously. Count on the scientist to ask the question. Out loud.

"Are you gonna take my blood or are we gonna chat about my medical history? Cuz I doubt everyone wants to hang around in this weird little room for that long."


	5. Chapter 5

**(Daryl's POV)**

I stared at her back as Jenner led us towards a dining area. Idiot doctor, calling her out on her scars like that in front of everyone. I could see that she had a hand over her forearm, gripping the scarred area tightly. Like she was suddenly self-conscious of something she'd forgotten about.

How she could forget was beyond me. I couldn't.

* * *

"_Daryl! Get your ass out here boy!"_

_Emma stood outside my bedroom window, waving her hand wildly at me. Was she in a dress? What the hell? I lifted myself off the bed and trudged out the front door onto the porch._

"_Are ya wearin' a damn dress?" I asked her. It was too dark to fully see her, as she had not made her way up the steps yet. But I could see the silhouette in the darkness, as well as a pair of high heels on her small feet. Heels? The girl lived in cutoff shorts, oversized t-shirts and Converse._

"_Junior dance! One of the girls in my class let me borrow it. I wanted to show you before I went off." She came up onto the steps quickly, tripping over her feet and almost toppling onto me. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her upright._

"_Y'already doin' a great job in the shoes." I laughed. She blushed, and I was finally able to get a good look at her. I felt the air leave my lungs._

_The dress was simple. White, strapless. Hit just about the middle of her thigh. She had twisted her hair up into a knot and had done up her eyes, making them greener than usual._

_Suddenly Emma was beautiful to me. She was my best friend, and I'd always seen her as that scared, scrawny, 8 year old girl I'd saved from crack head Johnny down the block. How had I not noticed it before? I'd spent countless summers in the lake with her, swimming around in nothing but our underwear. Hell, I'd undressed her and put her in PJ's the first time we found Merle's stash of vodka. This little white dress was certainly not revealing the most I'd ever seen of her._

_But at some point during all of our time together, she had grown up, a fact that I had been blind to until this moment. And I found myself mercilessly attracted to her._

"_Ya look great Em." I smiled at her, feeling incredibly nervous. Nervous? _

"_Thanks!" She did a twirl. "And my dad's not comin' home tonight, so I can stay for the whole thing."_

_I nodded, still staring at her. I felt my gaze travel down her neck, linger on her delicate collarbone, continuing to lower my eyes to her chest. When in god's name did those get here?_

"_Daryl Dixon, are you staring at my tits?" She faked a gasp and stepped back._

"_Can ya blame me? Don' tell me ya wen' off and bought one a those pushup things." That's something I would normally say, right? I couldn't keep my head straight._

_She just laughed. "You gonna walk me over or what? It's only an hour and a half. I figure I'll come back here afterwards, tell you about it?"_

_I nodded. _

* * *

_Where the hell was she? I looked at the clock above my piece of shit TV. She was supposed to be here over an hour ago._

_She probably just went home and went back to sleep. I tried to calm myself with rational thinking. _

_What if she went home with some guy from the dance? What if she was with him right now? What if…_

_Rational thinking. Not my forte. But jealousy? _

_She was a kid. Emma had always been a kid. A pain in my ass, sweet kid that I hated to see hurt and wanted to look out for. She was my greatest friend in this world, though I'd never admit it out loud, but she was a kid. Emma with a guy? With a boyfriend? Kissing someone? I couldn't even wrap my mind around it. And yet I couldn't get the vision of it out of my head. _

_I stood up and stomped out of my house. I'd just go check. She'd probably be sound asleep in her bed._

_I stalked across the woods leading to her house and froze as I heard a truck pulling out of her driveway. I thought she had said her dad wouldn't be home tonight? Was that him just leaving?_

_Aw fuck. My stomach dropped to my knees as I ran off to the house, ripping open the front door. Knew the drunk bastard wouldn't have locked it. Just his only daughter in the house, alone, in the middle of bumblefuck Georgia. _

"_Em?" I called into the house. Silence. I didn't even hear her crying, which I had been expecting._

_She hated when I came in after her dad had been beating her. She hated to let me see her cry, let me see her weak. She'd put up a fight when I tried to clean her up. But one thing I knew—she was not quiet after it happened. She was a wreck. Every time._

"_Emma?" I called again. My voice cracked with nervousness at the end of her name. Something was wrong._

_I opened her bedroom door, peeking in to look for her. She wasn't in there. Her bed was a mess, sheets on the floor, comforter shoved towards the foot of the bed. Some of the shit from her dresser had been knocked down. _

_The knot in my stomach tightened._

"_Daryl."_

_Her voice came from the bathroom, not much louder than a whisper. If I hadn't been frozen to the spot in her bedroom, I doubt I would've heard it over my footsteps._

_I opened the bathroom door to find her on the floor. The floor, which was stained with blood._

_I felt the tears spring to my eyes at the sight of Emma laying there, half conscious, while blood dripped out of the cuts on her arm. I saw the razor, lying in the red puddle on the floor, silver edge shining beneath the fluorescent lights of the bathroom._

"_Jesus. What the hell did ya do to yaself?" I choked out over the lump in my throat. I bent down to lift her up and began carrying her to her bedroom. I laid her down on the bed—she was completely out at this point—and rushed back to the bathroom to find some bandages._

_Had to stop that bleeding. Had to._

_I wrapped gauze tightly around her arm, taking a moment to apply pressure there. I looked around the room; with the light on I could see it hadn't been her average fight with her father._

_Her dad had fucked her up this time. Royally. The nightstand lay on its side, contents spilling from the drawers. I saw the stain of beer on her white wall where he must've thrown his bottle. I turned back to her, saw her swollen lips, purple around the edges._

_I saw her neck. It was covered in bruises. But they were weird. I kept my hold on the bandages on her arm and leaned closer to her. Were those bite marks?_

_I followed the trail of bruises until they disappeared under the neckline of her dress. Saw the torn fabric at the bottom of her dress, slit up to her upper thigh._

_I felt the bile rise up into my throat. I looked towards the ceiling and prayed to whatever God there might be that the thought that had crossed my mind was just that – a thought. No basis in fact._

_Then I saw the bloodstains on the sheets._

_I couldn't stop them if I tried. The tears fell down my face. I turned her on her side and began to unzip her dress. I wanted to get her into something comfortable. Something that wouldn't remind her of this night when she woke up. _

"_No no no no." She stirred, whimpering. She turned onto her back, pushing my hands away. Her green eyes were open but hollow. Unseeing. Unfeeling. It was terrifying._

"_Emmy, I jus' wanna get ya outta the dress. Put ya in some sweats." I whispered softly to her, trying not to alarm her in anyway. I placed my hand on her shoulder to turn her back._

"_NO! Don't fucking touch me. Don't fucking touch me!" She screamed, slapping and scratching at my arms. She backed herself up into the corner, wrapped her arms around her knees. The blood was already starting to seep through the bandages._

_She was visibly shaking. I couldn't stand it._

"_Ya need to let me clean ya up. I could damn near kill ya for what ya did to yaself. Lemme help you dammit." I put my hand towards her, willing her to grab hold of it._

"_Get out. Out. OUT!" The panic in her voice sent chills down my spine. I left the room. Sat outside the door. Waited for her scumbag father to get home as I listened to her gasping sobs through the thin walls._

* * *

Whiskey. The CDC had whiskey. Ain't no cure but it's a start. I took a long sip, sliding down the door of the room I had chosen.

Getting drunk had started out as a good idea, but now the image of Emma's empty stare was etched into my mind. Funny how the room was spinning, but the vision in my head was pristine. Like I was 18 years old again in that fucking bathroom.

"FUCK!" I roared, throwing the now empty bottle at the wall, watching it shatter to pieces.

* * *

**(Emma's POV)**

"So we were just always there for each other." I sat in the corner of the room, nursing my bottle of wine.

"Took care of each other. Him more than me, honestly. Daryl never needed anyone to take care of him. At least he played it off that way."

Christa was on the couch across from me, her knuckles wrapped tightly around the neck of her own bottle. They had turned whiter over the course of my story.

Bitch had gotten me drunk and convinced me to spill about Daryl. I knew it was only a matter of time, but still. Sneaky.

"Your dad. Em. I had no idea." She whispered, her brown eyes wide. I brought the bottle to my lips, sucking down the last of the wine. I pouted, sad to see it had disappeared so quickly.

"Yeah. Fuck it. Hope the son' bitch got eaten." I spat. My southern drawl came out a bit stronger under the influence of the alcohol.

"But, you always seemed so okay. At school, you seemed like you had just lived this normal, average life." Christa rambled on. I wasn't the only one feeling the wine.

"I _was_ okay. I was okay because I had escaped. There was nothing, no one in New York that could have ever reminded me of here. That's why I left." I absentmindedly twirled a piece of my hair around my fingers.

"But you loved Daryl."

I let the hair drop from my fingers. She was right. And I had left him.

* * *

"Open the door!"

I banged on the door, twisting the doorknob back and forth. Damn tricky thing wouldn't open. I swayed back and forth against the wall, trying to get into Daryl's room. I had a speech prepared. My drunken mind had it all planned out. It was quite the monologue.

Suddenly, it sprang open. I fell forward and face planted into the carpet.

"Dammit." He groaned, picking me up and setting me on my feet. "Go the fuck to sleep woman."

"I left you and I'm…I'm…" I hiccupped. "I'm sorry."

Speech over.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Yer obliterated."

I widened my eyes at him and took a step back. I saw the pieces of glass littering the floor. The strong smell of whiskey burned my nostrils.

"Yer drunk too Derle." I slurred, mocking his accent and giggling. I fell into him and hugged him tight around the waist. I might've been drunk but I felt his entire body tense up.

"Emma. Git yer ass to bed. I'll carry ya there myself if I have to." He growled, pushing me off him.

"No." I crossed my arms and slid to the floor. I crossed my legs and stared up at him. Stared was an unfair description, because truthfully, I only had one eye open.

"Then I'm leavin' ya here." He stepped over me and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Wine had never been a good choice for me before. I didn't know why I thought a zombie apocalypse would change that.

I curled up into a ball and passed out right there on the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: Italics = Flashback.**

**Shoutout to my new followers! :) Any constructive criticism is welcome in the form of reviews! Now on with the story.**

* * *

"Wake up you drunk ass!"

Christa was knelt over me, shaking my shoulder.

"Go away. Away beast." I mumbled through my hangover. I squinted my eyes open, was I on the floor?

Hazy images from the night before swam in my mind. I rubbed my temples, trying to make sense of it. Had I gone to see Daryl?

"I told you this was a bad idea." Christa looked smug. I looked over to the wall and saw the broken glass. Yeah, I had gone to see him. "Acting like a teenager pining for her first boyfriend."

"You're the one who got me drunk and forced me to talk about him." I groaned, lifting myself up from the floor.

"Come on girl. Let's get breakfast." Chris swung an arm around my shoulder, leading me back to the dining area. "Maybe Jenner has something for our headaches."

* * *

I stalked into the room behind Christa, once again keeping my eyes to the floor. Figured everyone would chalk it up to my hangover.

It had been nice to spend some time with the group—watching the people I'd been staying with relax, seeing them without terror etched into their expressions, joking and smiling. It had brightened some of the darkness that clouded the past month or so.

Seemed everyone was still in good – albeit hungover – spirits. T-Dog was going on about his talent with powdered eggs when Jenner walked in.

"I hate to bombard you with questions first thing…" Dale began.

"But you will." Jenner smiled, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Coffee? I immediately stood up to get in line.

"We didn't come here for the eggs." Andrea cut in, staring the doctor down.

"Nah man. I'm here for the coffee." I added, happily pouring myself a cup and looking around the room. I saw everyone's tense faces – except Christa, who was shaking her head at me and rolling her eyes.

Oh, I guess Andrea wasn't joking.

* * *

"I'm bout to get shitfaced drunk. Again." Daryl stomped away from the large screen that had just played back the death of TS-19.

I heard Andrea accusing the doctor of not knowing anything. Her panicked voice when the reality struck her that nothing was left. Anywhere.

Then Dale asked about the timer on the wall.

"It's when the generators run out of juice." Jenner explained, dodging Dale's eyes and turning back to his computer screen. I raised an eyebrow.

Rick and the other guys ran down to the generator room. Christa and I went back to the rooms with the rest of the group, each of us in a daze as we all processed the wealth of information Jenner had shared with us.

I thought for a moment about my brain. Synapses, he called them. The stuff that makes us individuals—gives us our mind, thoughts. Holds our memories.

Of course I had plenty of memories I'd been running from. But the image of TS-19's brain as the lights faded, only to be replaced by the dull red flashing around the brain stem sent chills down my spine. I had memories I never wanted to let go of too. Things that made me stronger—kept me going. I couldn't fathom the idea of them being erased from my brain permanently.

"I think I'm gonna take another shower. Just cuz I can." Christa said excitedly when we returned to our room. I laughed and shook my head. She had been going nuts. Our situation recently hadn't been very conducive to an average hygiene routine, let alone Christa's over the top habits.

I walked further into the room, staring at myself in the floor length mirror that hung from the back of the door. My honey blonde hair had grown about an inch since we had left New York and reached just below my chest in waves. I saw the purple circles underneath my eyes. I noticed the sharp outline of my jawline, my collarbone jutting out from under my neck. Must've lost weight.

I was never heavy—growing up without a lot of food in the house had kept me a scrawny, bony little thing as a kid. When I moved to New York though, I had put on your standard freshman 15. I kept it on—and some more, at times—throughout the years. Not being bone thin meant I had access to food. I never worried about it.

However, now it looked as though all my New York weight was gone. I saw my hipbones jutting out over the waistband of my jeans. I looked down.

"Hey guys. Long time no see." I mumbled to them, running my index finger over them and sighing.

"What the fuck?!" Christa's voice rang out from the bathroom as I heard the water shut off abruptly. It was eerily quiet in the room. Had the AC shut off as well?

She shuffled out of the bathroom, soaking wet and bare-ass naked. "What the hell is going on? He's lucky I rinsed. Five minutes ago and I would've been stuck here a soapy mess."

I threw a towel at her. "Get dressed. Let's go see what's going on."

Once Christa was decent, we poked our head out of the room just in time to see Jenner snatch the whiskey from Daryl's hand, putting the bottle to his lips and gulping down the amber liquid.

The dude had sat with us all night at dinner last night, opened his stash of alcohol to us, but I hadn't seen him take a single sip. Now he was chugging Southern Comfort? Bad sign.

"Zone 5 is shutting itself down."

* * *

"OPEN THE DAMN DOORS!" Daryl yelled.

I ran my hand through Christa's hair as she cried into my lap. I closed my eyes shut and tried to calm my ragged breathing. The doctor was playing God with all of our lives. He'd known it the whole time.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher." Jenner called over to Daryl and Shane, who were attacking them with axes. He was calm. I understood exactly the type of stillness that blanketed the doctor. I'd felt it before. He knew it'd be over soon.

"Yeah but yer head ain't!" Daryl growled, racing towards him, ax raised above his head. Shane and Rick held him back just in time. His hotheaded behavior was a strange comfort to me. Once he calmed down and gave up, that's when we needed to start worrying.

I stood up, rubbing Christa's shoulders before walking over to Jenner.

"Open the fucking doors." I said calmly. He stared back at me, shook his head.

"Wouldn't it be kinder to hold your loved ones as the clock ran down?"

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this." Carol sobbed, holding Sophia tightly to her. I looked at Sophia and Carl. They must be terrified. They were just children. If the adults were a hysterical mess, I could only imagine what must be racing through their little minds.

I glared into the doctor's eyes, silently begging him to let us go. I was about to open my mouth again when Shane knocked me away from the chairs, landing me on my ass as he held the rifle to Jenner's face and screamed.

"Shane, stop it!" Rick screamed, trying to push his friend back.

"Shane, you listen to him." Lori's shaky voice echoed in the empty room. Shane roared, emptying the rifle into the blank computers. I held my hands over my ears as the shots rang out, staying in my spot on the floor. I saw Daryl glancing from me to Shane murderously as Rick tackled him to the ground.

Ah. Shane had pushed me. As quickly as the emotions had passed Daryl's face, they disappeared again. He returned his angry gaze to the pair of men grappling on the floor.

"Are you done?" Rick grasped the rifle from Shane's hands, leaning over him, his face challenging Shane to continue his temper tantrum.

"Yeah, I guess we all are."

* * *

"Topsides closed down. I can't open that." Jenner explained as the doors finally opened again.

"Let's go!" Daryl was standing there impatiently. I would've expected him to start tapping his foot at any moment.

I ran up the runway leading to the doors, my backpack swinging behind me as Daryl led the rest of the group through the hallway. Where was Christa? Why was she not next to me?

"Christa let's fucking GO!" I screamed out, searching for her face. I watched T-Dog struggle with Jacqui as she declared she was staying.

"So am I." My head whipped around at the sound of my best's friends voice.

"Like FUCKING HELL you are!" I ran towards her, grasping her wrists and pulling.

"No. No. You need to get out of here. I'm staying. I can't go back out there. I won't." Tears were running down her face, but she was calm. She looked resigned to staying there. Peaceful.

"Christa do not do this to me." I begged, my voice cracking as I pulled at her arms again and fell to my knees.

* * *

**(Daryl's POV)**

I lead the way to the staircase, holding the doors open for everyone to rush through. My eyes scanned the faces.

Jacqui. Dale. Andrea…

Emma and her friend. They were missing.

I groaned and turned back around. Rick called out to me. "Jus' go! I'll meet ya up there!"

I skidded back into the room. Dale and Andrea ran past me out the doors, his hand on the small of her back. I saw Emma on the floor pulling at her friend's wrists, her face covered in tears.

"Chris, come on. Come on." She whined, her voice sounding completely heartbroken.

I marched over to Emma and grabbed her around the waist, putting her over my shoulder.

"Put me DOWN! Christa!" She struggled in my grasp, kicking and screaming. She punched my shoulder blades. I kept moving.

"I love you Em." I heard Christa's voice from behind us. It was void of fear, panic.

"NO! No. No." Emma's screams rang in my ears as I carried her up the stairs, keeping my arm tight around her as she squirmed wildly in an attempt to escape.

I reached the lobby just as the window blasted open, sending us both to the ground. She wriggled free of my hands and went to run in the other direction, back to where Christa was awaiting her death. I grabbed her again, tugging on her wrist forcefully and shoving her ahead.

"OUT!" I growled, seething. She stood there, tears running down her face, ignoring me and looking in the other direction.

"Goddammit." I grabbed her waist again, dragging her along. Her nails dug into my forearm, breaking the skin and drawing blood. I got her through the window, watching as the walkers began to rise from the ground and head towards the group.

She was running alongside me now towards the cars, no longer putting up a fight, her survival instincts kicking in. I took the ax in my hand and slid it through the neck of a walker heading right towards us, just as she took her knife from her belt and thrusted it into the eye socket of another.

We both reached my pickup at the same time. I opened the passenger door and shoved her in. I had just sunk down into the drivers seat when the explosion blasted the CDC to shit.

The ground shook beneath us as the building crumbled to the ground, black smoke filling the sky. The flames were everywhere, the bodies of the walkers closest to the entrance reduced to ashes. My ears were ringing, but I heard her.

"You fucking asshole."

"Shut up." I put my head in my hands. My plan of ignoring her wasn't going to work if she was going to try to get herself killed.

I felt her fist land onto my upper arm. Another on my shoulder. Again and again.

"YOU LEFT HER! You fucking left her there!" She was screaming, crying. Hitting me everywhere she could reach. I immediately regretted teaching her how to throw a punch as I winced.

"She made her choice." I glared at her. She slapped me in the face. I grabbed both of her wrists and turned to face her, looking into her green eyes.

"Cut the shit Emma!" I raised my voice. "What? Yer mad cuz I didn' let ya kill yerself. AGAIN? Ya were right last night. Ya fuckin' left me. And I wasn' gon' watch ya do it again."

I put the truck in drive and pressed on the gas, following Shane's jeep and ignoring her shaking shoulders as she sobbed.


	7. Chapter 7

**_(Daryl's POV)_**

"_How the fuck could ya do that to yerself?!" I paced back and forth across our clearing, anger clouding my senses._

_Emma sat up against a tree, a faraway look on her face. She wasn't paying any mind to me. She'd been a ghost for days now, ever since it happened. This was the first time I was able to get her out of her damn house. I walked up to her and knelt down into the dirt. _

"_Look at me." _

_She refused to meet my eyes, keeping her head turned. A single tear dropped down to her lips._

"_Look at me dammit." I growled, pulling her chin towards me, wiping the tear off her bottom lip with my thumb. She reacted instinctively, jerking her face out of my grasp and shoving my hand away._

"_Don't touch me." _

"_Like I'd ever hurt ya?" I yelled. I slammed my fists into the tree she was leaning against. She cringed slightly and finally met my gaze. Her eyes were steel._

"_You had to get involved?! Do you think, that after you left, the rest of my night went very well? I've told you for years to stay out of it."_

_I ran my hand through my hair and stood up, continuing my pacing. Her dad had been met with my right hook the moment he drunkenly stumbled through the door that night. The resulting brawl hadn't ended well for either of us, and the swelling in my right eye had yet to go down. I took a deep breath, ignoring the pain caused by my bruised ribs._

"_For years I have watched ya come to me black and blue Emma. For years I've cleaned ya up. I ain't never been okay wit' none of it. But ya told me to leave it, and I did. But. This. Is. Different. He…he raped ya and then ya tried to fuckin' kill yaself. I'm sposed to walk away from that?"_

_Her head snapped up. "You know?"_

"_Course I know." _

"_So why not let me die?"_

_I rounded on her then. I knelt back on the ground, grabbing her face with both hands and holding it there, refusing to let her pull away. I waited to speak until her eyes met mine._

"_I don' ever wanna hear ya say that again. Ya hear me? Yer dad's a monster. But there ain't nothin' in this world, no amount of monsters, that'd be worth givin' up yer life for. Yer a gift Emma, whether yer aware of it or not."_

* * *

(Emma)

As soon as he stopped the car, I swung the door open and walked out, slamming it behind me. I adjusted my backpack on my shoulders, made sure my knife was in my belt, and walked over to the RV without a second glance in his direction. I headed all the way to the back, refusing to look at anyone.

Daryl was leaving his pickup behind, switching to the bike to save on gas. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other after he had yelled at me. Fuck it. He wanted to act like strangers, fine. Fuck him.

He had just taken me away from the only person left in this world that I truly trusted, loved. I'd considered her family for christ sakes. He'd dragged me away from her, pulled my hands off her wrists. I couldn't get the expression on Christa's face as I struggled with him out of my mind. She had smiled, said she loved me, and leaned her head back against the desk with her eyes closed.

I had harbored no intentions of staying behind at the CDC. I'd known what it felt like to want to die. To have that choice taken away from me. To eventually feel gratitude for being given a second chance at life. To come to the realization that ending my life wasn't the strong, difficult decision it seemed to be – it was weak. Cowardly. It was giving up. I'd vowed never to let anything drive me to the thought of suicide ever again. _No amount of monsters._

I should've noticed it. Her fear, just under the surface, the entire drive to Georgia. The tremors that appeared in her hands at random after the night the walkers swarmed our campsite. The circles under her eyes, darker than mine, indicating that she hadn't slept the night before, or the night before that. I was too wrapped up inside my mind to notice that her actions were forced in an attempt to keep me sane. Too wrapped up to ask her once if she was doing ok.

The guilt covered me like a second skin.

And then, Christa's happiness at the apparent safety of the CDC. Air conditioning. Hot showers. Normal food. No more running. The one night we all slept there, she slept soundly without the fear of waking up to the snapping teeth of a walker.

We might have only been there for 24 hours, but it had been long enough to remind Christa of what life used to be like, versus what the world was now. And after that reminder, she couldn't face walking back out the door. And now my best friend was gone, and I was alone. With a bunch of people who I barely knew, and one who refused to acknowledge me unless I was about to die.

* * *

I opened my eyes, the hissing of the RV engine tearing me away from my troubled sleep. I shifted myself. I had fallen asleep sitting up, my neck bent back against the window in the back of the RV.

I rolled my head around my shoulders, trying to ease the tension as I walked up to the front.

"What happened?" Probably the hose thing.

"I knew it. Dead in the water." Dale sighed. I walked outside onto the highway, taking in the abandoned cars that were scattered over the roads.

"We can probably find you a hose somewhere 'round here Dale." Shane was sticking his head into the trunk of the car, knocking around the luggage inside. "C'mon everyone. Start looking. Grab what you think we'll need."

I tagged along with Shane, determined to put distance between myself and Daryl, who was headed in the other direction.

"Did ya'll say we needed water?" Shane laughed out loud, popping the cap off a five-gallon jug of spring water and showering himself with it. I smiled. Simple joys.

"Share some." I nudged him over, popping another cap off and letting the water hit my face. It was hot from sitting in the stuffy eighteen-wheeler under the sun for who knows how many days, but it felt good. Like being cleansed of the pain of the past few hours. I shook my hair out and wrung my shirt around my fists, getting rid of the excess water.

Glen walked over, grinning from ear to ear. I flipped my hair at him, sending some droplets his way. He laughed out loud and shook his head before embracing me in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry about what happened." He whispered in my ear. I pulled back and looked at him.

"Thanks…" Glen was alright in my book. He let me go and opened the trunk of an SUV, unzipping a suitcase as a hand wrapped around my face, covering my mouth.

I sucked in a deep breath, biting down on whoever had grabbed me, seeking to break skin. It was an involuntary reaction from years of having my mouth covered to stop the screaming. I struggled against the hand that had wrapped over my stomach, pulling me back. Panic began to set in.

"Shit. It's just me. Get under the cars. Calm down. C'mon." Shane hissed under his breath, pulling me down under the truck. As soon as I was on my back, he let go of me and pointed down the road. "Stay. Quiet."

Then I saw the feet. Too many pairs of shoes to count, dragging themselves slowly across the asphalt. I held my breath.

* * *

"_So…you're moving in with Merle?" _

_Daryl was giddy. I'd never seen him so excited in my life. I didn't know he had the capacity to be giddy. He had run up to the front of my house, banging his fists on the door, nearly knocking it down in excitement._

"_Yeah. It ain't too far from here. So ya can still come by. And I won' havta deal wit' my old man no more." He hugged me and swung me around._

_I still wasn't too comfortable with being touched. But I let Daryl get away with it. I couldn't rob him of this moment he was having. Nonetheless, I had to clench my fists around his forearms to keep from scratching at him. If he noticed, he didn't show it._

_He set me down. "Sorry. I just can't tell ya what this means righ' now."_

_I smiled at him. He wasn't this happy often enough, and it was contagious. I had only met Merle in passing, and he rubbed me the wrong way. I didn't think of him as a bad guy, just rude and obscene on another level. But Daryl loved his brother. Shadowed his every move. Hell, Merle taught Daryl everything he knew._

_I always thought that Merle was too hard on Daryl. Always telling him to man up, stop being a pussy. Giving him hell on earth for spending so much time with me. "Nah, he's just tryna make sure I grow up. Don' bother me none" was Daryl's go-to response._

_I knew he kept it hidden from me how much the insults from his brother got under his skin. He kept everything hidden from me. Tried to get me to talk about my father every chance he could, but clammed up about his if he even sensed I was going to bring it up._

"_What's your dad have to say about it?" I asked, biting my cuticle and trying not to look too curious._

"_I ain't askin' his opinion. I'm doin' it." He said roughly. "Now you gon' come help me pack or what?"_

_I lounged on his bed as he rummaged through a pile of sleeveless shirts. He said sleeves gave him hives and slowed him down while hunting, but I knew it was cuz he recently sprouted biceps and felt like showing them off. Bullshit artist._

_I bit my thumbnail, trying to think of how to ask him my question without getting him riled up. "D."_

"_Hm?" He asked, still looking through the shirts. I don't know what the hell he was doing. They were all the same._

_I hesitated. He looked up at me then, concern in his eyes._

"_You're goin' tonight?"_

_He nodded. "Firs' chance I get. Jus' gotta figure out what I'm takin'."_

"_Can I stay with you tonight?" I avoided eye contact, continuing to chew on my finger. His eyebrows creased._

"…_Why?"_

"_M'dad'shome." I mumbled it out, trying to make it as inaudible as possible. He shut his eyes for a moment. _

"_Is he still doing it?" He asked, eyes still shut. I nodded slowly, knowing he wouldn't see it. I started picking at the strands on my jean shorts._

"_Emma." His eyes were still closed, waiting for an answer. I saw his hands balled into fists, knuckles white._

"_Yeah…"_

_He drove a fist into the floor. Once. Twice. After the third time, he was across from me in a flash. I hadn't even seen him move and suddenly he was inches from my face. I involuntarily shrunk away, scooting back into the wall. I heard the growl emanate from low in his throat._

"_Fuckin' stop it. Stop flinchin' away from me like I'm him. Like I'm gon' hurt ya." He reached a hand up and cupped the nape of my neck, leaning his forehead against mine. His hand was warm as it gripped the back of my head, sending shivers down my spine. It wasn't terror that coursed through me. It was something foreign._

"_Ya think I don' notice it every time you do it. I do."_

_I stayed silent, waiting for an answer to my question._

"_Course ya can stay wit' me." _

_I looked into his blue eyes, the turmoil behind them confusing me. He looked like he wanted to do something, say something, but was purposely holding himself back._

"_Thank you." I whispered, afraid to speak too loudly. It was like he was on the edge of something, ready to fly off the handle at any moment. I could've cut the tension in the room with a knife. _

_He suddenly pulled my head forward. I felt his lips on the scar beneath my eye. He kissed another one on my jaw. I froze, every muscle in my body tensed, fighting not to move away. _

"_Wha-" I started to ask what on earth he was doing, but he cut me off._

"_I hate to see ya hurt. I fuckin' hate it."_

_It took me a moment to realize I had been holding my breath._


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi! Sorry for the delay in updating - but here's a long chapter to make up for it :). Thank you to my 2 reviewers and new followers, I'm glad you're liking the story so far! Nothing's set in stone so if anyone has suggestions on what they'd like to see, feel free to share!**

* * *

**(Daryl)**

I walked back to the highway alongside Rick, my hand tight around my crossbow. I scanned the forest for Sophia's little blonde head, tried to find her small tracks on the ground.

I'd spent a lot of energy gutting that walker to pieces, spent even more tracking through the forest for more than half the day, but that paled in comparison to the amount of effort it took to block out the image of another scared little blonde girl from my head.

I stepped over the guardrail, squinting in the sunlight as Carol ran up to us.

"You didn't find her?"

Rick sighed. "Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light."

"You…you can't leave my daughter out there on her own. To spend the night, alone in the woods." Carol was wringing her hands, ignoring Lori's comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Trackin' in the dark's no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. More people would get lost." I explained, trying to soften my voice to ease her mind. I felt bad for the woman, felt even worse for her kid. Even if they were both a bit useless.

"But she's 12, she can't be out there on her own. You didn't find anything?!" Carol was becoming frantic quickly.

"I know this is hard, but I'm asking you not to panic. We know she was out there." I could see the guilt written all over Rick's face, it was like he was silently begging Carol not to blame him for losing her little girl.

I nodded. "We tracked her for a while."

"Now we have to make this an organized effort. Daryl knows the woods better than anybody, I've asked him to oversee this."

I scanned the group's faces and saw the doubt and worry in their eyes. I could see them grappling with the idea of trusting a dirty redneck to oversee anything. I clenched my hand around my crossbow, struggling to maintain my composure.

"Is…it that blood?" Carol's breathing was turning into hyperventilating. I looked down at my pants, seeing the bloodstains from the walker Rick and I had…investigated.

"We took down a walker." Rick spoke again quickly in an attempt to calm Carol. "There was no sign it was ever anywhere near Sophia."

"How can you know that?" Emma asked. I ignored the tensing in my muscles at the sound of her voice. She was sitting atop the roof of a car, eyebrows creased with concern.

I turned my head to her, avoiding her eyes. I did not want to address her in front of the group. I didn't want to interact with her in front of anyone. They did not need to know she was a ghost from my past, that we had known each other once. But Rick looked at me, eyes pleading to answer her question. I could see he couldn't do it himself.

"We cut the son' bitch open. Made sure." I quickly turned my head back to the rest of the group as soon as I finished speaking, watching Carol sink to the ground and the other women crouching over her, trying to support her.

"H-how could you. Just leave her out there. To begin with. How could you just leave her?!" Carol's eyes were cold as she glared at Rick.

"Lady, I didn't see you running after her. Cut the guy a break, he's obviously distraught." Emma had hopped off the top of the car, walking closer to the guardrail Carol was propped up on. "Don't pay to lay blame on anyone. Won't do Sophia no good."

If looks could kill. Carol's red-rimmed eyes burned a hole into Emma's. Rick looked back and forth between the two women, at a loss for words. He held his index finger and thumb to his nose for a moment before speaking up.

"Everyone set up to camp here for the night. We'll take watch in shifts. Daryl, you're up first." And with that, he stalked away through the cars.

I scowled at being given a command like some type of fucking sheep. But I decided to keep my mouth shut for once – with the CDC and now Sophia missing, I figured our group had experienced enough drama without me adding to it.

* * *

I climbed to the top of the RV as the sun began to set, crossbow on my shoulder, while everyone else piled inside to try and get some shut-eye.

The highway was eerily quiet. There wasn't even a breeze in the air. I reveled in it. Finally, some peace and quiet.

I pulled out a cigarette and lit it. I settled into Dale's beach chair and looked out over the empty cars, putting my crossbow on my lap. I would just tell T-Dog to go back to bed when he came up here to relieve me. I wasn't trying to be in that stuffy RV. Or in such close quarters with Emma.

I took a drag and let the smoke out through my nose, thinking of what she had said to Carol. Not so much what she'd said, but how she'd said it. "_Won't do Sophia no good."_

Years of college education and New York City didn't seem to matter – if she was upset, the redneck in her came out. Or drunk, apparently, as I remembered her little performance in my room at the CDC.

The door of the RV creaked open and I sat up straight, pushing my thoughts to the far corner of my mind.

"Shane, it's all good. I'm just going for a smoke. Won't be more than five minutes." Emma's voice drifted up to me.

"It wasn't a request. I'm coming with you. Nobody goes anywhere alone." I rolled my eyes. What a douche.

I watched the two of them as she strode out into the cars, Shane on her heels. I wasn't happy about her being alone with him. I had seen him push her at the CDC. Man was a loose cannon. I knew I was a hothead, but I was aware of this fact. Shane didn't acknowledge his own insanity and believed himself to be levelheaded. It was his lack of insight about himself that made him dangerous. He actually believed he was making the right calls.

Plus I'm almost positive he was screwing Lori before Rick showed up.

They were about ten feet away when she stopped to light her cigarette. Where'd she even get that from?

Shane had the same idea as me, and asked her. If they had walked another ten feet, I wouldn't have been able to eavesdrop. Like I was doing right now. Like a fuckin' creep.

"Dale." I watched the tendrils of smoke come out of her nostrils. "I haven't had a cigarette in years, but it seems that lung cancer is the least of my worries nowadays."

I snorted.

* * *

_I plucked the cigarette out of her lips. "The hell ya think yer doin' with that?"_

_"Smoking it." She went to grab it back from me and I held it over my head, away from her reach._

_"Smokin' kills." I tossed it off the roof. I saw it land on the "W" of the big neon Wal-Mart sign._

_Emma shrugged and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds, sticking her tongue out at me and pulling another cigarette from the pack. "Don't be a hypocrite. You smoke like a damn chimney."_

_No argument there. I hadn't been able to ward off all of Merle's bad habits. I let the argument go, watching her place it to her lips and light it._

_"How'd ya even get them?"_

_"Some guy at school." She blew the smoke out of her mouth. I bristled at the thought. Some guy? Who? _

_"What guy?" I struggled to make the question as casual as possible. She walked over to the edge of the roof, sitting on the ledge and swinging her legs forward._

_"Some kid in my math class. Mike. Or Matt? Whatever. He was nice enough."_

_I sat next to her, pulling the cigarette from her fingers and taking a drag. I stole a glance at her as she took it back from me. She was in one of her trademark outfits. Cutoff jean shorts, white wifebeater, Converse on her feet. With socks that never matched. Unremarkable._

_But I took in the sight of her long, tanned legs hanging off the roof. The black bra strap that stuck out from beneath the tank top. The two dimples on her lower back poking out under her shirt above the waistline of her jeans._

_It was all I saw lately when I looked at her. It was torture to pretend like she wasn't hot as hell. _

_"I think ya should stay with me and Merle." I hadn't planned on asking it. I'd been thinking it for days. But it just slipped out, like I had lost control of the muscles in my face. _

_She stared back at me. She flicked the cigarette into the parking lot and looked up to the sky. I took advantage of her moment of silence to convince myself I wanted her there so I could protect her, not just so I could look at her and be with her._

_"I'm 16. My father has custody of me. I can't go anywhere. If I disappeared, he'd know I was with you." She had taken interest in a piece of her hair, twirling it around her finger and refusing to look in my direction._

_"I could give two shits about it." I had anticipated that response from her. Now that I'd grown the balls to ask the question, I wasn't going down without a fight. "Pack some shit up and come tonight."_

_"And Merle's alright with this?" She had turned to face me, now straddling the ledge of the roof. It took a lot of willpower not to think of what her legs would look like straddling something else. Fuck._

_"Who cares? Stop lookin' for excuses. You gon' make me say please?" _

_She laughed. "Good God no. Daryl Dixon with manners? Outrageous."_

_"So you'll stay or what?" _

_She eyed me skeptically, but nodded. "I'll stay. But answer me this: why do I feel like there's more to this than keeping me from my dad?"_

_Emma could read me like an open book. I went for a cheap shot. Answer her question with a question._

_"What other reason could there be?"_

_She shrugged. "Yeah, guess you're right. Well, if I'm staying over, can we drink? I want beer."_

_My kinda girl._

* * *

_Emma could not hold her alcohol for shit. _

_Six beers into it and she was jumping on my bed, screaming the lyrics to Nirvana's "Lithium" as it blasted from my cheap radio. I was momentarily grateful that Merle was at the bar._

_I leaned against the wall on the edge of the bed, watching her. It was nice to see her loosen up a bit, acting more like the girl I'd known for so long. I knew it was because she was away from the threat of her father. She had been so tense lately. So timid. Quiet. Distant._

_"Sing with me D!" She yelled over the music, still hopping around and flipping her hair back and forth. Tone deaf as ever._

_I shook my head and laughed. Crazy girl._

_"Would ya sit down?" I grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to me. She fell into my lap, laughing._

_"You're no fun." She pouted, wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her head on my shoulder, looking up at me. It was the first time she'd voluntarily touched me in months. I tried not to look like I was enjoying it as much as I was. She tapped the tip of my nose with her index finger twice. "You, sir, are my best friend in the whole widest world." _

_I took a sip of my beer. It was starting to hit me a bit as well. I smiled at her. "Yeah?"_

_"Yes! And you have pretty blue eyes. Like the sky." She was slurring her words now. She crawled off my lap and collapsed face first into the bed. For the love of Christ._

_"Daaaaryl. Have you ever had a girlfriend? How come I've never seen you with a girl?" She had rolled over onto her stomach, placing her chin in her hands._

_"Why would ya wanna know somethin' like that?" I was suddenly very uncomfortable. Truth was, not many girls looked interesting to me lately, and it had a lot to do with Emma. Another truth was, that no, I'd never had a girlfriend. Girls, yes. Randomly. Meaningless encounters. Usually after tagging along to a bar with Merle. But a girlfriend?_

_It was not a topic I'd ever discussed with her._

_"C'mon. Spill. Pleaaase." She poked my shoulder and wiggled her eyebrows at me._

_"No. No girlfriends." I answered. She looked confused. "That a surprise to ya?"_

_"Well. Yeah." She sipped at her beer. "You're nice. And handsome. And strong. And funny. And smart, even if you don't believe it."_

_"Are we havin' this conversation right now Em? About my nonexistent love life?" I chugged the rest of my beer. Maybe if I get shitfaced drunk on her level it'll make sense to me why she's asking me these things._

_"You never talk to me 'bout stuff. It's always me talking to you. I gotta drag information out of you everytime I wanna know something." She crossed her arms in a huff. Her attempt to look angry was failing due to the fact that she only had one eye open as she glared at me._

_"Quit bein' a brat drunkie." I poked her stomach and she jumped up, giggling. I grabbed her side and tickled her, desperate to end this conversation. She went to move away from me too fast and fell right off the bed. I dragged her back on and she stuck her head in my pillow, still laughing. _

_"Yer such a lightweight."_

_"You love it!" Her muffled voice came out from the pillow. "Now fetch me another beer!"_

_"Yes ma'am." I saluted, feeling like an ass but knowing it'd keep her laughing. She stumbled off the bed and over to the radio, starting the song over again. I walked into the kitchen, chuckling at her screaming the lyrics, voice echoing into my hallway._

_When I walked back into my room with her beer, she was half-asleep on my bed. Go figure. I cracked opened the can and took a sip of it myself._

_"Bedtime?" I asked her. She lifted her head off the pillow and nodded, eyes half open._

_"C'mere." She held her hand out to me, waving it around for me to grab it. I sat down on the floor, my face level with her eyes. They were closing slowly and I could hear her breathing becoming steady as she began to fall asleep. Before she was out, her words came out in a whisper._

_"I love you Daryl."_

* * *

**(Emma)**

Daryl was in his element. I'd forgotten how good he was at tracking, hunting. Didn't matter if it was for squirrels, deer, or in this case, Sophia. He practically floated across the ground with how quiet he was.

I'd kept my mouth shut for most of the day, keeping close to the group and constantly checking for my knife in my belt. I opted to stay out of the church, staying outside to read over the gravestones, looking up at random and scanning the cemetery for Sophia. But now we were heading back, without Rick or Shane.

I trudged through the forest next to Glen, staring at Daryl's back as he led us out of the woods and back to the highway. It was odd to be so close to him, yet act as though he was as much a stranger to me as the rest of these people were.

"So this is it? This is the plan?" Carol stopped us, pausing to sit on the trunk of a tree.

"I guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller'n smaller groups." Daryl leaned against a tree, pulling his crossbow off his shoulder and resting it against his legs.

"Carrying knives and pointy sticks. I see you have a gun." Andrea's sarcasm pissed me off as she glared at Lori.

"Oh shut the fuck up Andrea." I spoke for what I'm pretty sure was the first time today. "With the fucking gun bullshit. Aren't you tired of yourself yet?"

I felt everyone's eyes on me. Glen's mouth was hanging open. "What?! It's like every time she opens her mouth she's whining about guns." I turned back to her. "Sweetie, you killing yourself is yesterday's news. Right now, we're trying to find a little girl. So, contrary to what you might believe, nobody actually gives a shit about what you want."

"How dare you." Andrea was shocked. She opened her mouth to speak to me again, likely to curse me out, but Lori cut her off.

"Here." She was holding the gun out to Andrea. "You want it? Take it. I'm sick of the looks you're giving me."

Lori turned to Carol. "Honey, I can't imagine what you're going through and I would do anything to stop it. But you have got to stop blaming Rick. It is in your face every time you look at him. And when Sophia ran, he didn't hesitate did he? Not for a second. I don't know that any of us would have gone after her the way he did. Or made the hard decisions that he had to make, or that anybody could have done it any differently. Anybody?"

Most Lori's ever said, definitely. Looks like we're all feeling particularly talkative today. She kept going, challenging us to try and lead the group better than Rick.

"Are ya'll females done?" Daryl was visibly annoyed, shouldering his crossbow. "Let's get movin'. Keep yer eyes open."

I could not help the smile that came to my face as I heard him muttering under his breath ahead of us.

"Fuck the cops. Leavin' me wit' a buncha women and a Chinaman."

* * *

_"Hold it steady."_

_"It's fucking heavy." I was whining, holding up Daryl's crossbow in the middle of our clearing and trying to keep it up. My upper body strength sucked._

_"Quit bein' a girl. Ya asked me to teach ya, I'm doin' it. Work wit' me." He repositioned the crossbow, moving my hand to the trigger._

_It was the end of June and I'd been living at Daryl's and Merle's for about half a month, since school had ended. How my father hadn't come to drag me out by my ankles yet was beyond me – but I wasn't asking questions. I was the happiest I'd been in a long time. Probably the happiest I'd ever been in my life._

_"Can we go back to throwing knives? I'm good at that." I kept whining, mostly to annoy him at this point. But I was actually pretty good at it. I had only missed the target he'd drawn on the tree with chalk a few times._

_"I'm ignoring ya. Now focus." He stood behind me, one hand on my waist. With his other hand, he moved my left one to the front of the bow, then placed my right one on the trigger._

_He pulled my right arm up and back. "Keep this arm level with the bow. Shoulder up."_

_I was suddenly very aware of his hands on me. My shirt had ridden up and his hand was holding onto my side. I could feel his callused fingers against my bare skin and felt goosebumps pop up. _

_I was no longer nervous to have him touch me. I knew it was aftershock from what my dad had done – and continued to do – to me. Contrary to what he might've thought, I never once believed he'd ever hurt me. But lately – ever since the night he kissed my scars - every time he touched me it gave me chills. And when he'd let go, I'd want him to come back. Right now, his body was inches from mine. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. The butterflies in my stomach were having a damn party._

_"Okay. Look into the scope. Find yer target." _

_I swallowed and nodded. "Got it."_

_His hand wrapped around my smaller one, pressing my index finger down on the trigger. The shiver that ran from my head to my toes caused me to move slightly and the arrow flew a few feet away from the target, hitting a random tree behind it._

_"What the hell? Ya had it 'fore ya moved."_

_I placed the crossbow back in his hands. "I got nervous."_

_"Ya were tossing knives around like a fuckin' circus act before. Yer tellin' me holdin' a crossbow made ya nervous?" He rested the bow on the top of his shoe, eyeing me._

_"Let's try it again tomorrow? I wanna go back. I'm hungry." I responded, purposely avoiding his question._

_"Wait. Shh." He held a finger to his lips and pointed. I held still, turning my head to see a squirrel on a branch a few feet above us._

_Daryl went into a crouch, holding the crossbow the way he'd shown me minutes ago. I saw the muscles in his arms tighten as he moved, quiet as a mouse, slowly placing his foot down on the ground as he took aim. _

_I sucked in a breath. He looked…well...he looked fucking sexy. There was no other word for it. What in god's name was wrong with me? How could I be developing a crush on my best friend? I was just a kid to him. Some broken little girl he inexplicably felt obligated to protect._

_The arrow hit the squirrel right between the eyes._


	9. Chapter 9

**(Still Emma)**

I slapped a mosquito off my shoulder, seeing Lori stop in the corner of my eye.

"You still worried about it?" I asked her. The rest of the group slowed, turning back to face us.

"Yeah, it was a gunshot." Her back was turned. Maybe before the world went to shit, a gunshot in the middle of the woods was nothing. Different story now.

"We all heard it." Daryl's voice was impatient. Likely annoyed with us slowing him down.

"Why one? Why just one gunshot?" Lori stared at him expectantly.

"Maybe they took down a walker." He wiped his forehead with his hand. We'd all been walking the exact same route. How he'd managed to get more dirt on his face than the rest of us was a mystery to me.

"Bullshit. They wouldn't risk the noise." I looked at him, knowing he was patronizing Lori. He glared daggers at me, clearly pissed that I had not only called him out on his lie but also that I'd spoken to him in general.

He wanted to pretend like we were strangers. Fine. He had his reasons and I understood them. Kind of. But I wasn't planning on acting like some mute around him. If he expected me to walk on eggshells in his presence, he was sorely mistaken. I glared right back at him, locking my eyes with his and raising an eyebrow. Dare you to say something to me Daryl. Go for it.

I saw Glen glancing back and forth between the two of us, a look of confusion on his face. He shifted his weight across both of his feet awkwardly and interrupted the tense silence. "So…what do we do now?"

Daryl broke our gaze and looked to Glen. "Same as we been. Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway."

"I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV." Andrea spoke quietly. She had stayed quiet since I'd flipped on her. Perhaps I'd given her some insight.

"I'm sorry for what you're going through. I know how you feel." Andrea had turned to Carol. Hm, maybe I had gotten through to her.

"I suppose you do. The thought of her, out there on her own. It's the not knowing that's killing me. I just keep hoping and praying she doesn't end up like Amy."

Carol's voice was shaky and it took a moment for her to realize what she had just said. "Oh god. That's the worst thing I ever said."

Andrea smiled. "Well, for what it's worth, we're all hoping and praying with you."

Daryl came up to the two women, a look of annoyance clouding his features. "I'll tell ya what it's worth. Not a damn thing. It's a waste a time all this hopin' and prayin'. Cuz we're gonna locate that lil' girl, and she's gonna be jus' fine. Am I the only one zen around here? Good Lord."

And with that he stalked off without another word. The rest of us took it as our cue to keep moving.

I felt the corners of my mouth turn up at Daryl describing himself as zen. Zen my ass. I looked to Lori, who I could see was also attempting to hide her amusement. Our eyes met and we shared a smile.

* * *

My legs burned – it had been a long time since I'd spent a whole day hiking through the forest. I squinted up into the sky and saw the sun much lower than the last time I'd thought to check.

"Gonna be dark soon." I paused, resting a hand on my hip. "Should probably head back."

I saw the defeated look on Carol's face and put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow and find her."

Daryl whistled to the rest of us, directing our group back to the highway. I fell into step alongside Glen, who was looking at me with confusion written all over his face.

"Spit it out Glen." I kept my voice low and slowed my pace a bit. I didn't know what he was going to say but I'd prefer not to be overheard by anyone – particularly by a certain dirty redneck.

"Well…it's just. Everyone annoys Daryl. But you seem to really bug him." Glen kept his eyes forward, avoiding eye contact.

I sighed. Count on normally oblivious Glen to notice.

"Not everyone can appreciate my tendency to be brutally honest. Or my lack of a filter. I don't think I'm very popular in general." I nodded my head in the direction of Andrea, who was complaining about the distance to the highway. Something about crows.

"He dragged you out of the CDC." Glen's eyes were accusatory.

"Yeah, well –"

I was cut off by Andrea's scream. Immediately Glen and I ran in the direction of her voice, catching up with Daryl, Lori and Carol along the way. How the hell had she gotten so far from us?

I saw her trip and fall over a branch, the walker inches behind her. His dead rotted hands were grabbing at her ankles as she tried to kick him away. I picked up my pace, leaving Glen behind me and ignoring the burning sensation in my thigh muscles. The girl was annoying, but nobody deserved a death like the one she was very close to experiencing.

"Andrea!" I yelled out, she was only feet away from me. I pushed forward. In the chaos of the moment, I didn't hear the galloping sound coming from my right. I felt the familiar calloused hand on my arm, tugging me backwards hard. My back slammed against his firm chest as the horse missed me by mere inches.

"What. The. Fuck." I gasped, still leaning against Daryl as I saw the baseball bat connect with the walker's head. He gently pushed me off of him and I stumbled slightly, turning beet red. What was that, the third time he's saved my life?

"Lori? Lori Grimes?" A pretty brunette girl was riding the horse, sticking the bat into a saddlebag.

"Yes, I'm Lori." I turned to see Glen, Lori and Carol running full speed as they caught up to us. Andrea was still on the ground, looking dazed and confused. Probably just saw her entire life flash before her eyes.

"Rick sent me you gotta come now."

"What?"

"There's been an accident, Carl's been shot. He's still alive, but you gotta come now."

What? Carl? Shot? I felt my heart in my throat. There must be some mistake. I saw Lori's face, the shock and fear written into the creases in her forehead.

After a moment of tense silence, during which all of us were looking at her as though she had six heads, the girl spoke again. "Rick needs you, just come!"

Lori snapped out of her temporary paralysis and dropped her bag to the ground, moving swiftly towards the unknown girl and the horse. I saw her differently in that moment. She might not be perfect but she was a mother and her boy might be in danger.

"Whoa whoa whoa. We don't know this girl! Ya can't get on that horse!" Daryl tried to follow her, attempting to stop her.

"Let her go." I put my hand on his arm tentatively and he glared at me. Neither of us had the slightest understanding of what a loving parent would do for their child, but I saw the determination in Lori's eyes.

"Rick said you had others? On the highway? Backtrack two miles down the road, you'll see the mailbox. Names Greene." And she galloped away.

We were all frozen in silence. Not even 10 minutes could have passed. My hand was still on Daryl's bicep and he gruffly shoved me off of him, readjusting his crossbow. The walker I had presumed was taken care of sat up, letting out a disgusting groan.

"Shutup." The arrow went clean through its brain.

* * *

**(Daryl)**

What a fuckin' day. If Lori went off with some crazy chick and it turned out to be a sham, Rick would have my balls. The man left me in charge and so far, two of the women almost died and another went off into the damn sunset on horseback. And now, here I was, babysitting. Carol was refusing to leave the highway for the farm. I couldn't blame her.

"If Sophia found her way back to the highway and we were gone, that would be awful."

Andrea was annoying. Emma was worse, but it had been great to watch her tell the other blonde off back in the forest. But this time, I had to agree with her.

"Ok. We gotta plan for this. I say tomorrow mornin's soon enough to head out. Give us time to rig a big sign, leave behind some supplies. I'll hold here tonight, stay with the RV."

It was uncomfortable taking the lead. I tried to ignore everyone's eyes on me, like I was some type of leader. Like they were counting on me to make a decision for them. As everyone else volunteered to stay, I saw Emma looking at me inquisitively.

I understood. She knew my usual tendencies towards other people. What could I do though? I didn't have much of a choice. A little girl was missing, a little boy might be shot. I just wanted to do what I had to do, what I thought was right. The look on her face was questioning, but proud. Like she was about to come over here and pat me on the damn back.

Annoying. I did not need her approval. I snapped out of my reverie to something about antibiotics and T-Dog having a blood infection.

Merle's drugs. Dammit. As if I hadn't been playing savior enough all damn day. Pulling the rag off the seat of the bike, I tugged the plastic bag of prescription drugs out.

"Keep yer oily rags off my brothers motorcycle." I tossed the towel at Dale, giving him a glare for good measure. "Why did ya wait til now to say anythin'? Got my brother's stash. Crystal, x, don't need that. Got some kickass painkillers."

I found what I was looking for and tossed it at Dale. "Oxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither – that's first class shit. Merle got the clap on occasion."

I turned back to the bike to ignore the grateful smiles I was no doubt receiving. Fuckin' people, I probably shocked the shit outta all of 'em today. Some no good, dirty hillbilly takin' the time to help locate the little girl, save the black guy and share his racist brothers drugs.

"I'm gonna go back with Glen if that's alright." Emma was talking to me. I glanced around the rest of the group before answering her. Glen and T-Dogg were busy packing up Carol's Cherokee. Dale was back inside the RV, no doubt bothering Andrea. Carol was standing by the guardrail in a silent vigil, eyes scanning the trees for her daughter. Nobody was paying us any mind, so I decided to reply.

"Don't matter to me. Do what ya want. Dunno why ya'd ask my permission."

"Looks to me like you're a temporary leader of sorts." She was pushing my buttons on purpose. If anyone knew how uncomfortable I was with my current situation, it was her.

"Fuck off. I do not care what ya do." I emphasized each word, trying to make them sound convincing. More for my own sake than for hers.

"You've saved my life three times now. Seems you do." Her green eyes were trying to catch mine.

"What are ya doin'? What do ya want from me?" I let my guard go for a moment and stared into those green orbs of hers. Fuck, she was as beautiful as she had been the day she left me. _She _left _me. _

"I dunno." And she was telling the truth. She bit on her thumbnail nervously. "But I never did say thank you. For saving me."

"No need. Lost too many already, and now Carl and Sophia. Group don't need no more tragedy." And just like that my wall I had spent years building was back up and there was no way she was getting in again. I couldn't forget that she had left me. Without a second glance.

Her face crumbled at my words, understanding the intent behind them. Nothing personal, just doing what I had to do for the group. She regained her composure, her green eyes turning to ice. Emma turned on her heel and stalked off towards Glen, linking her arm with his as he escorted her into the passenger seat of the Cherokee.

I shoved away the jealousy that boiled up inside me. Bitch did that on purpose.

* * *

_Emma waltzed into my bedroom – I should say our bedroom. We'd been sharing it for a couple of months now. Her dad must've been off on a marathon bender because he hadn't come looking for her once. _

_Needless to say I was getting very used to sleeping on the floor._

_"Guess what!" She was clearly elated about something. She began digging through her small suitcase of clothes, holding up a shirt to her chest and examining herself in the mirror._

_She always threw me off when she acted like a girl. It was adorable._

_"What?" _

_"I got asked out on a date!"_

_I would have expected a thousand and one other things to come out of her pretty little lips. But not that. It caught me off guard and I clenched my fists tightly, trying to control the surge of jealousy that raged through my bones._

_"Yeah?" It was all I could manage. I tried to sound like I wasn't gritting my teeth together._

_"Yes! Can you believe it? That kid Matt. He wants to take me to a movie and the diner after!" _

_I could believe it. But I didn't want to. I should've known it was only a matter of time before someone else besides me realized how gorgeous she was. She stripped her t-shirt off and put the blouse on. I tried to look anywhere but at her as she undressed._

_"You think a shirt's okay? Or should I do a dress? Would that be too much?" She took the blouse off and held up another shirt to her nearly naked chest. I was very, very uncomfortable, particularly in my crotch area. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to control my arousal. She did not need to see that._

_"Ya look pretty no matter what." _

_She smiled at me. "As my best friend, you're obligated to say that."_

_"Nah. S'true." She blushed, her cheeks turning pink. "Em, ya sure this guys okay? If he makes one wrong move…"_

_"He's a nice guy D. Quit bein' protective. I'll be gone for no more than a few hours tops. Hour and a half movie, hour at dinner. Home before 9. Or is that past my curfew?" She put her hands on her hips, challenging me._

_"Ya know that's not how I mean it." I squirmed under her gaze. She still had not put a shirt on, and I really needed her to be clothed._

_"The red one's nice. Wear that one." I pointed at the shirt she had discarded onto the floor. I quietly thanked the Lord for small miracles as she put it on and skipped out of the room._

* * *

_The clock read 8:45._

_She said home before 9. It was almost 9. Where was she? My mind was a whirlwind of unwelcome visions. The guy, Matt, holding her hand. Placing his fingers beneath her chin. Tipping her head up to his. Placing his lips over hers._

_All things I wanted to do. Should have done already. Should be doing. Not him. _

_The jealousy was driving me insane. It was worse than the waiting. Emma was amazing. I'd have to learn how to deal with this. This certainly wouldn't be her last date. He wouldn't be the last guy to notice her smile and how it reached her eyes. How her hair dried into pretty waves down her back after a shower. The sound of her laugh. Her quiet strength. How her nose scrunched up when she was being stubborn._

_I groaned and stepped onto my front porch to continue my waiting in the fresh air. Staring at the clock and watching the minutes tick down was pure torture. I slid down the wall into a sitting position, crossing my legs. She wouldn't be able to see me from the street._

_I was fully aware I was being a creep. But I wanted to see what this asshole looked like._

_I heard their footsteps getting closer to the house and peered through the wooden barrier of my front porch. I gave "Matt" a once over. He was her height, and scrawny. _

_She's gotta be kidding me. She said yes to that? He was staring at her in wonder as they slowly walked down the street together. She looked slightly uncomfortable, but also pleased at the attention he was giving her._

_"I had a lot of fun tonight." He spoke up. Boy sounded like puberty was a ways off for him. I almost slapped my hand to my forehead._

_She looked to the ground. I knew she was the same pink color she had been in my bedroom earlier. "Me too. Thank you Matt."_

_He reached for her hand and held it. I leaned forward, trying to get a closer look. I was beyond creep at this point._

_"Would it be alright if I kissed you?" He asked shyly. I saw her eyes snap up to him. My hands were balled into fists at my side. No. It would not be alright if you kissed her._

_"Um…I guess that would be okay." Her voice was small and nervous, but she smiled at him. He leaned in closer._

_I couldn't take it. Without thinking I stood up and walked off the porch in their direction._

_"Time to get inside! C'mon Em." I yelled out and clapped my hands. What in the fuck was I doing? Her head whipped around in my direction just as he was about to reach her lips and I saw the ultimate death glare on her face._

_"Sorry buddy. Movin' a bit too quick, dontcha think?" I directed my words to Matt. I was out of control. He looked confused – and scared. I was much bigger than him, and I imagine seeing some crazy redneck come out of the darkness was relatively unsettling._

_"I-I…" He was rendered speechless._

_"Nice to meet ya. I'm Daryl. Have a good night." I dismissed him quickly and walked back into the house, expecting Emma to follow. And she did. Her footsteps were not quiet. I could feel the anger radiating off of her in waves._

_"What. The. Fuck." She spit out her words as I got into the living room. She was actually shaking. "Daryl, what the HELL was that?!"_

_"C'mon Em. Ya can do better'n him." I stared her down. Might as well keep my insanity going. I was too far gone at this point._

_"Says who?! D you just ruined my chance at my first real kiss what the FUCK is your FUCKING PROBLEM?!" Her voice got louder and she rushed at me. Her little fists collided with my arms, my stomach, my chest._

_"YOU EMBARASSED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!" _

_I grabbed her wrists and wrestled with her, pushing her against the wall._

_"Ya think ya first real kiss should be with some lil' lanky asshole like that kid?" My face was inches from hers. She was beet red, nostrils flaring, eyes alight with anger. She wrenched her wrists from my grasp and pushed me off of her. I stepped right back up against her, pinning her to the wall with my body and placing my hands on either side of her head._

_"What's it to you?!" Her voice was still raised, but less confident now. Less angry. She was nervous, but she kept her stance and ignored the proximity of our bodies. "Huh Mr. All-Knowing? Who should my first real kiss be with, huh? You've got some fuckin' nerve Daryl Dixon, trying to tell me who I should and shouldn't be-"_

_My lips crashed onto hers, cutting off her tirade. It was somewhat clumsy, given she didn't see it coming and I hadn't exactly been prepared for myself to do it either. I kept my lips on hers for a moment, savoring the softness of them. I pulled away slowly, taking in her look of pure shock._

_"W-W-What." She stuttered and held her index finger to her lips, tracing where mine had just been. "What was that?"_

_"Ya first real kiss should be wit' me." I could feel the heat in my face and knew I must've been crimson. She was still frozen there, hand on her lips, green eyes opened wide and staring into mine. I kept going, unable to stop myself._

_"I dunno when I started feelin' this way for ya but when ya left tonight I couldn't stand the thought of ya wit' someone else. Yer supposed to be wit' me. Please say somethin'."_

_She held up a finger to me, indicating she needed a minute. Finally, she burst into laughter. _

_I was not expecting that._

_"You're jealous?!" She said through her giggles. I pursed my lips together. This was not the reaction I wanted. I had been hoping for more of a "Take me now Daryl Dixon" if we're being honest._

_ "Oh my god. You're jealous."_

_"If ya don't feel the same way that's fine but don't fuckin' laugh at me." I was getting angry. It took a lot for me to be honest about shit like this. I'd never had real feelings for a girl before._

_She shook her head. "You're an idiot."_

_I opened my mouth to respond but she cut me off, grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me into her. Our lips met again, and I felt her hands tangle into my hair this time as she pushed herself against me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pushed my tongue into her mouth. She accepted it with her own. My mind was blank. She was everywhere. I could smell her, feel her, taste her. She pulled away suddenly and held my face with her hands. The smile on her face was contagious._

_"I feel the same way D. I do."_

_That was the reaction I wanted._

* * *

**Yay for kisses! What do you guys think so far? Do you think Daryl's being too mean in the present? I just want to stay true to his character and part of the reason he's so hard (in my story) is not only because of Merle and his father, but also because Emma left. So let me know your thoughts :)**

**Also, if anyone has suggestions for what I could use for flashbacks, that'd be great. I want to keep putting them in as they relate to the present, because they're my favorite to write. But I'm currently a bit blocked after this last one, so any suggestions would serve as some much needed inspiration!**


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